The Brat Page 0,86

a distance, doing his best to avoid being noticed by Balan in the process."

"That may work," Anselm admitted.

The men all mumbled their agreement, and Anselm turned to Erol and Godart. "You two can watch him in shifts, one during the day and one at night. You can decide which shift you want between the two of you.

But," he added, his gaze moving over everyone present, "I want everyone to try to keep an eye out for him. If you see Lord Balan about, take note that all is well and that no one is watching or following him or acting strangely." When everyone murmured or nodded, Anselm clapped his hands. "That is it then. We can all go back to our duties."

Feeling a little better now that she knew Balan would have someone watching over him at all times, Murie joined the others in leaving the castle wall. She was back in the keep and halfway across the great hall before she became aware that she was being followed. Glancing back, she raised an eyebrow at the sight of Juliana trailing after her. The girl was biting her lip and looking anxious.

With all the excitement and worry since coming upon her husband in the river, Murie hadn't given a thought to how this must have upset the child. Pausing, she held her hand out, smiling when the girl slipped fingers into hers.

"You saved him," Juliana whispered in a trembling voice, and before Murie could speak, added, "but what if he is killed the next time? He is all I have."

Murie's smile faltered at the child's words, knowing the incident had raised fears of what would happen if her brother died. It was a worry Murie had never had as a child... until she'd found herself orphaned. Kneeling, she took the girl by the shoulders and stared her straight in the face. "Nay. You have me now, too ... and I promise you, should anything happen to your brother, I shall take care of you."

Juliana bit her lip and managed a trembling smile. "And I would look after you, too."

Murie smiled at the child and gave her a quick hug. "That is what sisters are for," she whispered by her ear,and thought to herself that she was beginning to love the sister as much as the brother. The thought so startled her that Murie simply knelt there when Juliana stepped back. She barely heard the girl say she was going to go find Frederick and run down to the stables to see if Habbie's dog had had her litter yet; she was simply too stunned by her own thoughts.

Standing slowly, she continued on toward the stairs, but her mind was racing. Did she love her husband? Certainly she liked him, respected him, and she definitely enjoyed their marital bed ... but love? How could she love him already?

Murie's parents had had a wonderful marriage. They had been a loving and affectionate couple. But they had seemed to her to be the exception rather than the rule. The behavior she'd seen at court had been somewhat less than stellar: married noblemen dallying with maids in whatever dark corner they could find, while their wives took lovers of their own in more discreet but no less adulterous affairs. She'd seen men beat their wives in public after too much drink, insult them publicly after nothing to drink and just generally treat them poorly. But Balan had never treated her so, and she was quite positive he never would, though she could not have said why. There was just something too honorable about the man for her to believe he would ever sink to such behavior.

But love ... ?

"Aye," she admitted on a sigh. She loved him. And, if for no other reason than that, she could not lose him. She would do all in her power to ensure whoever was trying to kill him did not succeed.

Balan woke slowly and opened his eyes, relieved to note that this time his head was not aching. He supposed he could thank Murie's medicinals for that. They had worked wonders when she'd finally returned. The noxious brew had tasted bitter and nasty, but his headache had soon eased. The only problem was that the brew had made him sleepy as well, and he'd soon found himself falling off to sleep again.

Wondering what time it was, he peered around the room. The chamber was dark, lit only by the fire, which cast dancing shadows across the wall.